Stalker
by Obsessive Reader22
Summary: What happens in the dark? We all have our theories..this is just mine. Ranger has a reputation for a reason. Rated for language and violence.


***AUTHOR'S NOTE: They aren't mine, but I do enjoy play with them. ENJOY and please REVIEW!***

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His feet slapped the pavement, and his arms pumped as he sped toward the man who was scrambling away from him. The only sound was the rhythmic sound their feet made and the ragged breathing of the man he knew he was going to catch up to.

He watched as the man slid around the corner, disappearing into the narrow alley.

'Stupid fucker.' He thought, knowing that the alley ended in a tall chain link fence about three hundred yards in. He picked up his pace, using the momentum he had going around the corner to hop up onto the dumpster before launching himself forward and closing the gap between them by half.

The man he was chasing slowed as he came to the fence, frantically searching around for an escape.

"You done yet?" He smirked, stopping ten feet in front of the man.

"Fuck!" The scared man's name was Franklin Dourdrie and was currently in possession of information that he needed. Information that wasn't going to be given freely. Doudrie attempted to scale the fence, which lead the man to only quirk his eyebrow in amusement.

The man, who was known on the street as Ranger, knew that there was no way that Doudrie was going to be able to get up and over. Not only was he already panting heavily, but the razor wire at the top would insure that if he did make it up he wouldn't make it far.

"Tsk tsk tsk." Ranger whispered, shaking his head as Doudrie once again fell back to the ground with a sickening crunch. "You aren't going to get away, Franklin. Why don't you just give me what I want?"

"Fuck you!" He ground out, sucking in his breath as he stood on his now twisted ankle. Doudrie's eyes widened in terror as Ranger lifted his head, a sickening smile stretching over his face. "Shit."

"The hard way it is." Ranger's tone was dark and hinted his amusement. Reaching into his side pocket he pulled out his butterfly knife, flicking it open as he stepped forward. He knew they were illegal, but the fear that shown in the eyes of his victims was too addictive. He loved the fear that oozed out of the man in front of him. Breathing in deeply through his nose he took in the scent of the man's fear. Sweat, the sweet smell of adrenaline as it rushed through his blood stream and even the miniscule poignant smell of piss.

"Please…" Doudrie begged, his hands outstretched in front of him. Ranger laughed and stepped directly in front of him. He was so close that he could hear the man's heart pounding staccato.

"Tell me where she is, and I will make sure that all your body parts are found." Ranger brought the blade up to Doudrie's face, dragging it slowly down his cheek; blood seeping out. He could see the man's muscles tense preparing to fight and could hear the footsteps inching towards them. 'Please do.'

He wasn't disappointed. Doudrie's fist swung at his face, as he felt the forms behind him. He blocked the fist, sending his own into the man's face before twisting and ducking a second fist from the man behind him. The third man managed to connect, whipping his head to the side before his knees were kicked out from behind him.

He was down on one knee, holding Doudrie's leg against his thigh as he twisted. The sickening pop of his kneecap sent a thrill through him. With Doudrie screaming on the ground behind him he lunged at the other two attackers, countering their fists with blocks and kicking them away.

"You ain't leaving this alley with a pulse fucker." One of the men growled, spitting blood onto the filth incrusted alley. Ranger just smirked, switching the butterfly blade from one hand to the other. These men weren't good enough for him to waste his dominant hand. Plus, he really enjoyed besting people only doing a half assed job.

Ranger eyed the men for a moment, noting how one was holding a small knife with his left hand. The other had a bulge in the front of his pants, more than likely a small handgun; probably a 9mm. 'Too easy.' He thought, tipping his neck to one side a loud crack echoing from it.

He curled his fingers towards the men, motioning for them to bring it; which of course they did. The man with the knife lunged, blade first.

'Idiot.' He laughed internally before reaching around the blade and snapping the man's wrist and embedding his own blade into the man's throat. Blood gushed from the wound, but before a drop hit the ground the other man reached down and pulled out the gun. Ranger, hoping that the other man's blade was sharp enough, threw it towards the man with the gun. It met its mark, sinking into the center of the man's chest. Unfortunately, it wasn't before the gun had fired. Pain ripped through Ranger's shoulder, sending him stumbling back a few steps.

"Mother fucker!" He hissed out, pulling his knife from the throat of the first man, who was twitching on the ground. Blood was pouring out of the man quickly and pooling beneath him. A wet gurgling sound escaped the man's lips as he looked wide-eyed at Ranger; who was standing over him a smile tipping the corner of his lips. Ranger watched as the life faded from his eyes, wiping the blood from his knife on the man's shirt.

He turned to the other man, who was gasping at this point. He had removed the knife from his chest and was fumbling trying to stop the bleeding. Ranger kneeled down next to him and picked up the discarded knife.

"Didn't quite think this through …did you?" Ranger chuckled. Leaning down he slowly slid the knife along the inside of the man's leg, cutting the femoral artery. The man screamed and reached for the gun that had fallen a few inches out of his reach. "No. I don't think so." He pushed the gun a few more inches away and watched once again as life drained from the man's eyes.

He stood, thankful for the gloves that he was wearing, and walked back over to Doudrie, who was pulling himself along the ground trying to get away.

"Yeah, I don't think you are going to get away." Ranger smiled, pulling him to his feet and slamming him against the fence. It groaned against the weight and Doudrie whimpered. "Now," Ranger pulled out his knife again flicking it open. "Where were we?"

"I don't know where she is!" He cried out, tears pouring from his eyes and mixing with the blood from his cheek. "Please. I don't know."

"That's a shame." Ranger shook his head and squinted at him. "I don't believe you though."

"Shit." Doudrie was sobbing now. "Please, I don't know where she is. I know who has her, but I don't know where he took her."

"You took what's mine." Ranger slid the knife down the man's chest, cutting the material beneath it. "I don't share and I don't play well with others." He pressed harder, drawing blood as he continued. "Name."

"Uh…Rickles." He gulped. "Antonio Rickles. He goes by Pickles. Eighth Street. Green duplex."

"See, now that wasn't hard was it." Ranger smiled and patted the man's unmarred cheek with his palm. "Too bad you had to make things difficult."

"I can help you."

Ranger always hated when they started begging. He shook his head and quickly slit the man's throat, dropping him before he could get any more blood on him. Once again, he wiped the knife on the man's shirt before stowing it back into his pocket.

Turning, he strolled out away from the bodies, flipping out his phone and pressing the second speed dial.

"Pickles. Eighth Street. Green duplex." He took a look behind him and added. "Clean up on aisle four. Three for one."

He disconnected and took off at a run towards the black Porsche Turbo that was parked a few blocks away. He had one more man to talk to tonight, and if this man was smart he would have Babe in his bed by morning.

"Fucking Stalkers." Ranger spat as he floored the Turbo, making the tires squeal as he sped towards Eighth Street.


End file.
